As I vowed I would several days ago, I have begun to take steps to separate my life from that of Oliver Acton's. It was tolerable for the first few days. The sting of the rude way in which he had spoken to me in the green-house certainly helped. And too, I had the cleaning up from the party to do with no offer of assistance from him and that was another spur to keep me from thinking kindly of him. And once the cleaning was complete, I had plenty to do in the green-house. I had planted an herb garden out-of-doors in the Summer and now that it was Autumn, it was time to transfer everything indoors. Once I was aware if the presence of the SRA in my neighborhood I had immediately begun planning a green-house in order to keep a steady supply of all the herbs necessary for protection spells, all the year round. And now here in the bountiful time of year I had everything I needed including the essentials: Dragon's Blood, Chamomile, Lavender, Sage, Star Anise, Peppermint and Wormwood. The pleasure of the earth and green growing things and organizing and transplanting was quite therapeutic - but the best therapy in the world cannot solve everything. As I worked in the green-house, every now and then, I involuntarily caught my breath, and I well knew that it was a reaction to Oliver's thoughts - I knew he was thinking of me. I must find some incantation to counter this naturally- occurring psychic sensitivity. I had thought of him so often and so intently in the past few months that this psychic link had been created - and until the party I had welcomed it. It gave me a distinct feeling of pleasure to know he was thinking of me. But now it only served to remind me of his existence.
In spite of these impediments I got along with only mild discomfort at being separated from him, and like a fool I actually thought that it would become easier after that. This morning I went early to the green-house and was puttering around when I happened to glance out the window. There was Oliver, standing in the lane looking at the green-house. The sight of him so unexpectedly was a shock. I gasped and took a step backwards. And then a wave of intense feeling hit me - all the anguish at his rejection and all the regret and most of all the agony of missing him - all that I had managed to repress in myself filled up my heart in an instant. I felt faint, and then I felt nauseous and I almost collapsed. I recovered after a moment but now it felt as though an iron fist was squeezing my heart until I was sure the blood would gush from my mouth. And then the irresistible urge to see him again. I rushed to the window but he was gone. I realized that he must have stopped for a moment on his daily morning constitutional to the post-office. I ran out to the lane and looked east and I could see the back of him some way off, down the lane. I burst into tears of anguish then ran into the house and threw myself onto my bed. It is only now in the early evening that I have recovered enough to write this down.